Blood on the Keys
by madamwolf
Summary: Oneshot. Tag to Spell. What was going through Lex's mind as he played the piano. Completly revamped.


**AN:** So, this story has been completely revamped. I mean, same basic story but different. I was just wandering around my stories and I read this one and realized it wasn't very good, this is actually the second revamping I've done. The first one I lost when my computer froze (which sucked).

By the way I found out there was another story that came out before this one called 'Blood on the Keys' I'm sorry! I didn't know, I didn't like try to steal it or anything I promise.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville or Lex… although I wish I owned Oliver Queen… yes… I wish.

**Spoilers:** The episode Spell…

Blood on the Keys

He didn't understand what was happening to him; in fact he never would understand what was happening. One minute he was talking to Lana like everything was normal and then the next it was like she was possessed. He walked to the piano and he just couldn't stop playing, what was happening, he thought desperately, why can't I stop? What did Lana do to me? He screamed in his head.

He knew well enough that no one in his vast mansion could hear him if he shouted. It was one of the few times he wished he didn't have wealth and that he just had a normal home, then maybe someone could help him. But despite knowing his, he opened his mouth and screamed.

"Help!" He shouted louder then he had ever shouted before. "Someone please, help me!" He cried as his voice began to crack. He continued this until his throat became red and raw and he was no longer able to, but that didn't mean he stopped trying to find help.

Repeatedly he tried to lift his hands from the ivory keys with no avail; it only seemed to cause him more pain. He focused all his energy on trying to separate his hands and stop playing but it only caused his fingers to cramp more then they already were. Eventually he didn't even know how his hands were still moving, his fingers were burning but the pain didn't stop there, it traveled up his fingers and to his hands and even past them to his wrists.

He didn't know how much time had gone by, he couldn't possibly know. If he tried he could think of how many times he had played the specific movement of his piece which was only a little over a minute long but he couldn't even comprehend it. Once he enjoyed playing this classical song, but now after so much time of only playing a small fraction of it just the mere thought of the song made him want to cringe.

As time continued on his fingers grew so painful it was only numbness now. But as he played he felt something drip onto his pant leg, he opened his tired and tortured eyed and dropped his head and his mouth open in horror. The once white and shining keys were now covered in a sticky crimson liquid, blood. It was flowing from his fingers and onto his keys and dripping down to his legs. Unable to look at it he shut his eyes again and allowed a tear to slip past his eye lid and down his cheek. He knew something was wrong when she asked for the wine. He should have done something sooner, Lana didn't drink, none of them did or at least to the extent of them asking him for liquor.

Opening his eyes again he looked around again for something to help him. But of course there was nothing, just like there was nothing the last time he willed himself to look. He hated this, things like this didn't happen, at least not to him. He was Alexander Luthor! He was a wealthy man with power, things that this weren't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be helpless and weak…

Didn't people visit him anymore? It seemed people were always popping in on him at random times but now that he actually wanted them to no one did. Of course he didn't want Lana to come, but Clark was always here, Chloe too, even his dad he would welcome if it meant he would be released from this hell.

He wished that he could just to close his eyes and sleep as his head lolled from side to side trying to find a comfortable spot in vain. Even unconsciousness looked so good right now but he just couldn't seem to find it. Maybe it had something to do with what Lana, or whatever was in Lana's body, did to him. He couldn't stop, it had been hours, the window behind him was now supplying light, that meant it was morning, he had been playing all night on sticky blood soaked piano keys.

Suddenly just as he was giving up all hope he heard the door to his study open briskly and Lex thanked whoever was responsible.

"Lex, can I talk to you for a second I got a big problem…" It was Clark who had entered the room and Lex wished he could call out to him but he couldn't find the energy. Clark kept talking, he must have been oblivious to Lex's pain, he must not have looked at him yet because he was sure that if he did he would notice something was awry.

Finally after Clark spilled his problems out to Lex who wasn't even listening he looked to him and saw something was wrong. "… do you have any connections at Princeton?" He trailed off and a look of confusion crossed his face. "Lex?"

Clark walked over to the piano and looked at the keys seeing the blood he looked horrified. "Lex, what are you doing?" He demanded.

Lex didn't respond he couldn't respond, he looked up to Clark wearily but couldn't do much else.

He bent down to his friend and grabbed his arms trying to get him to stop the continuous zombie like playing but it didn't help. "Stop! Stop it!" He yelled at him almost angrily.

Lex swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but he could only manage a hoarse whisper which was enough for Clark. "I can't…" he said trying to lift his head.

Thinking for a split second Clark lifted his hand and roughly pushed away the grand piano making it wheel across the room. At this point he didn't care if Lex saw anything and if he did he doubted his friend was in his right mind enough to even process it. "Lex what happened?"

"Lana…" He breathed tiredly before slumping into Clark's arms finally and thankfully giving up his consciousness.

Lana? Clark thought for only a second before lifting his friend into his arms with ease and bringing him over to the couch before speeding away to find something he could wraps his hands with.


End file.
